Tears
by phantomeyeswriter
Summary: What happened if Reid had turned to dilaudid while grieving Emily's "death." One-shot told from JJ's perspective.


**I rewatched "Proof" (7x02) the other day and couldn't help but imagine how this scene would play out. It's probably been written before by other passionate writers. This is how it goes down in my mind.**

**Disclaimer: I have no claim.**

**\- O -**

JJ paced back and forth across her living room, her gaze anxiously moving between the clock and the front window. She could hear Henry babbling in another room while Will got him into his pajamas. The soft sounds did nothing to comfort JJ's nerves.

Every day for the past month, Spence had shown up at her front door a blubbering wreck. JJ would hold him, rub his shoulders, and wipe his tears as he mourned the death of Emily Prentiss. Every day for the past month, JJ would shove down her guilty feelings while she helped Spence. With two words, she could end Spence's pain. _She's alive_. JJ could never tell him. Instead, she held him.

JJ didn't know it was possible for someone to mourn like this. Most of the team had managed to move passed Emily's death in a matter of days. The signs of struggle were still present. JJ would catch Morgan staring at Emily's empty desk. Garcia hung onto some of Emily's possessions, proudly displaying them along with her own collection of bobbleheads and fuzzy pens. Rossi didn't show the same enthusiasm for the work he'd portrayed before Emily's "death." The whole team had suffered, though none showed it as outwardly as Spence.

"He here yet?" Will asked, interrupting JJ's thoughts. She looked at her husband, standing in the hallway, cradling Henry who now wore flannel pajamas with a pattern of rocket ships. There was not a trace of impatience or annoyance on Will's face. He completely understood Spence's need to use JJ as an outlet for his feelings.

"Not yet," JJ said, trying to smile through her worry. Spence, known for punctuality, had always shown up at seven-thirty. The clock was inching towards eight and there was no sign of the genius.

"Maybe he's feeling better," Will guessed.

"Yeah, maybe," JJ said, wishing she believed it.

Will turned back down the hallway to put Henry to bed. JJ continued pacing the living room. A horrible feeling was growing in her gut. A few minutes later, Will returned without their son.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"I don't want him to feel smothered. If he is feeling better, calling might upset him all over again."

"Want to try calling Morgan?" Will then asked.

JJ looked toward the window one more time, hoping to see Spence's car pull up in front of the house. When it didn't appear, she nodded and took out her phone, collapsing onto the couch. Will sat across from her as she dialed her colleague's number.

Morgan picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, JJ. What's up?"

She could hear music blasting in the background. It sounded like Morgan was at some sort of club.

"Is Reid with you?" She asked loudly, trying to make her voice heard over the music.

"No. I haven't seen him. Have you tried calling him?"

"That's all right. Thanks, Morgan." She hung up without an explanation and looked at Will, shaking her head.

Will sighed. "Call Spencer. He won't feel smothered."

Echoing her husband's sigh, JJ dialed Spence's number and listened to it ring on the other end.

Nobody answered.

JJ's gaze didn't leave Will's face as she listened to every hopeless ring. She could see the sympathy and worry growing in his eyes. It only increased her own anxiety.

When the voicemail kicked in, she hung up and jumped to her feet.

"I'm going to run over to his apartment, just to check on him."

Will stood as well. "A minute ago you didn't want to call him. Now you're going to his house?"

"I need to check on him. Make sure he's okay."

"Damn profilers."

JJ normally would have smiled at that, but worry overcame any humor. "This isn't about profiling. This goes beyond that. It's a feeling. Intuition."

Will volunteered, "I'll come with you."

JJ shook her head. "Stay here with Henry. I'll be back in thirty minutes."

Grabbing her keys and her purse, JJ hurried out to her car. She dialed Hotch on her way to Reid's apartment.

"Hotchner."

"Hey, Hotch. It's JJ."

"Is everything all right?"

JJ couldn't help but be both impressed an annoyed at Hotch's profiling skills. "I'm worried about Reid. I think something may be wrong."

When Hotch said nothing, she continued.

"Emily's death hit him hard. He's been coming over to my house every night for the past month just to cry."

"You want to tell him the truth? You know we can't do that, JJ."

"I know," JJ said quickly. "It's just, tonight he didn't show up. I'm on my way to his apartment now."

"Keep me posted," Hotch said.

By then JJ was only a block away. She and Hotch hung up as JJ parked on the street and made her way into the building. Climbing the stairs to Spence's floor, JJ began to feel doubt. Spence was probably fine. He would be so annoyed that she had come. He hated being babied.

Still, she'd come all the way here.

JJ knocked on the door and called out, "Spence? It's JJ. Are you home?"

There was no answer. JJ held her breath, listening for footsteps, any sound to indicate the genius was on the other side of the door.

She knocked again and still received no answer.

Unsure of her next move, JJ hovered on the threshold. Maybe Spence had gone out. It was unusual for a homebody such as Spencer Reid to leave, especially this late at night. But Reid's behavior had been beyond uncharacteristic lately. It was reminiscent of the weeks following the Hankel attack.

That thought was what finally prompted JJ to reach for her keys. She had a spare to Reid's apartment. Blocking out all arguments for why she should not be trespassing, JJ inserted the key and turned. The door swung in, revealing a dim apartment. JJ scanned the area and her eyes landed on the shaggy brown hair sticking up over the back of the couch.

JJ sighed with relief. He'd fallen asleep. A smiled finally formed on JJ's lips as she moved around the couch. The smile fell when she saw the little clear bottle and needle sitting on the table in front of Reid.

"Spence!"

He didn't stir at her shout. His white face looked translucent in the dim light, the dark circles under his eyes standing out more than usual. One arm was propped against his side, palm up, veins exposed, needle mark clear.

Her immediate reaction was to check for a pulse. Her fingers found Reid's neck and felt the steady thrumming of a heartbeat. He was alive. The tears that had been gathering in JJ's eyes since realizing the situation finally fell. She touched his face, brushing hair out of his eyes.

"Spence, wake up. Come on. Wake up."

He didn't even flicker.

Leaving one hand on Reid's face, her other hand fumbled for her phone. She hit redial.

"Hotchner."

"There's something wrong with Reid."

"What's wrong?"

"He won't wake up and…" JJ didn't want to say it, but Hotch had to know. "…There's a bottle of dilaudid and a needle."

Hotch cursed. "Don't call an ambulance. I'm on my way."

"What do you mean _don't call an ambulance_? He won't wake up!"

"He hasn't overdosed, JJ."

"How can you be sure?" She can hear the muffled sounds of a car starting and knew Hotch was on his way. "He's been depressed, crying at my house every night. I should have done more for him. I should have told him!"

"You know we couldn't tell him."

JJ doesn't miss Hotch's use of 'we.' She taps Spence's face again, searching for any sign of consciousness. "How do you know he hasn't overdosed?" She asks again.

"How full is the bottle?" Hotch asks.

JJ spins and grabs the tiny glass vial. "Still nearly full," she says, hearing the relief in her own voice. "How did you know?"

"Reid may have been depressed, but he wasn't desperate. He just wanted relief from the pain. The behavioral signs weren't present."

"So much for the inter-team profiling rule," JJ said, still coming down from the elation that her best friend wasn't about to die.

She heard the car engine shutting off. A minute later Hotch appeared in Spence's doorway. JJ hung up her phone as her boss approached. He knelt down in front of the young genius and started making the same checks JJ did—pulse and breathing.

"I still think we should take him to a hospital," JJ argued.

"We can't. His career would be over."

"If we don't, his life could be over!"

Hotch turned his eyes sharply from Spencer to her. "This isn't the first time I've helped him through this," he said, more calm in his voice than JJ had been expecting.

They held each other's gazes for several seconds. Then JJ nodded. Hotch would take care of Spence. He'd be alright. She had to believe he'd be alright. For now.

"What if he finds out about Emily?" JJ asked.

Hotch was quiet as he considered his answer. "We'll just have to deal with that if the time comes."


End file.
